My best friend in all the world was a professional clown. He died at age a young age from brain cancer. He did not have a clown funeral but every clown, magician, and kid's entertainer in the county was there. In tribute, he was buried with a lone juggler's club on his casket. Nothing could symbolize the loss better. The perfect symbol of a fallen juggler. It was the saddest thing I have ever been to in my life.

"Chuckles the Clown brought pleasure to millions. The characters he created will be remembered by children and adults alike: Peter Peanut, Mr. Fee-Fi-Fo, Billy Banana, and my particular favorite, Aunt Yoo Hoo. And not just for the laughter they provided-there was always some deeper meaning to whatever Chuckles did.

Remember Mr. Fee-Fi-Fo's little catch phrase? Remember how, when his arch rival Señor Caboom hit him with a giant cucumber and knocked him down, Mr. Fee-Fi-Fo would always pick himself up, dust himself off, and say, 'I hurt my foo-foo'? Life's a lot like that. From time to time we all fall down and hurt our foo-foos. If only we could deal with it as simply and bravely and honestly as Mr. Fee-Fi-Fo.

And what did Chuckles ask in return? Not much. In his own words, 'A little song, a little dance, a little seltzer down your pants.'"